


Day of Rest

by cat_77



Series: Flufftober 2018 [31]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: Even Shadowhunters deserved a day off, for loose definitions thereof.





	Day of Rest

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt of “free day.” (Yes, I am purposefully misinterpreting it.)
> 
> * * *

“So when do we get a day off?” Clary asked after wiping her blade on her jeans and sheathing it again.

Alec looked at her, confused. “You didn’t have to patrol at all yesterday,” he reminded her.

She glanced over to him as though he were being especially dense. “Yesterday was four hours of training for both hand to hand and weapons, plus two more on Clave policy, plus another three between setup and teardown and the actual meeting we had for the new vampire clan looking to take up residence off of Seventh,” she replied.

“And?” he prompted, not sure where she was going with this.

“Still work, and a lot of it,” she pointed out. He supposed she wasn’t wrong, but that was simply life as a Shadowhunter, at least at the New York Institute.

“We had a movie night last week,” Izzy chimed in.

“After six hours of patrol and taking out an entire nest of something I could do without ever seeing again,” Clary complained. She huffed and tossed a wayward curl out of her eyes. “Studies show that it is not good for one’s mental health to constantly be on high alert, and long hours lead to high stress levels and early death. We need a break.”

“Mundane studies,” Alec pointed out.

Jace snorted a laugh and added, “And going one on one against a horde of demons is also not exactly a path to late retirement.”

She rolled her eyes. “We are part mundane,” she reminded them. “Seriously, the Dubai Institute allows at least one day a week for quiet contemplation, and the one in Portland lets them have two. And this is apart from training days, even if most of the residents do an hour or so of that anyway on their days off.”

Alec frowned. Clary had served as emissary to both Institutes recently, even if he hadn’t done so himself in years. Portland had a slightly lower per capita of demon activity, but also had a large increase in the longevity of the Nephilim that resided there versus some of the other major cities. “So what do you suggest?” he reluctantly asked. If anyone inquired, he would deny ever taking any advice from Clarissa Fairchild.

“Start small? One day a week? Maybe even one day every other week for each person where no one has anything scheduled. No patrols, no training, no meetings. See if it helps clear minds and improve productivity,” she recommended.

“Do you know how much juggling of the rosters that’s going to take?” he asked, already thinking of the logistical nightmare.

“At the very least, offer it? Some people might want the extra patrol, and others might want a day to go to a museum or draw or learn how to cook,” she reasoned hands in the air to grasp at ideas like physical objects, and he knew precisely which applied to her own interests even as he considered all of the potential benefits.

Four months later and nearly everybody was used to having at least one day off per week. Productivity had skyrocketed. Reports were turned in on time and with minimal corrections needed. Teams were more alert and far more successful, enough so that he received the rare praise from the Clave. Clary had requisitioned more sketchbooks and he questioned her use of official funds for her hobby until he saw her teaching new recruits the fundamentals of linear drawing, and saw those talents equate better battle plans and analysis, all for the price of two hours every other week where she voluntarily held classes in an unused room.

For himself, he was both more selfish, and less. He kept his phone on him at all times, essentially on call despite Izzy and Jace waving him off and promising that they could handle things on their own. He also traveled to more and more exotic locales with Magnus, spending a full day and night at a time versus a quick pop in for a bite to eat before hurrying back to the city. The longer weeklong vacations once a year were still to be allotted as well, but he found teams were far more lenient with scheduling when they knew they would still have a day to themselves while they covered for others.

“Are you ever going to thank Clary?” Magnus asked one night. They were curled up on the beach in Cancun, watching the sun set slowly against the water.

“I bought her a season pass for the Met,” he defended himself.

“The place that she would sneak into anyway, any time she wanted to, while glamoured?” Magnus laughed.

“It’s the thought that counts,” he reasoned. He didn’t mention that he also paid for a class he saw her eyeing there, or that he upgraded the easels and pencils in her little makeshift classroom as that would just ruin his image.

Magnus just smiled at him knowingly. “More wine?” he offered instead.

“Sure,” Alex agreed. After all, they had all night.

**Author's Note:**

> Last of the Flufftober prompts! There’s a really good chance that I will be back on my angst-filled cookies soon.


End file.
